Lost and Found
by CrossingtheRiver
Summary: The death of her sister at the 5025th sends Margret on an emotional rollercoaster, eventually leading to an investigation for the truth. She turns to Hawkeye for support. HM eventually but some MC and HOC.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first story. I do not own anyone but Elizabeth Houlihan and Micheal Robertson.**

**Summary:** Margret's sister is killed at the 5025th MASH. Who will Margret turn to for comfort?

**Rating: **T

**Pairing: **Who else? Hawkeye/Margret

_**Prologue**_

The air in the 4077th MASH was tense. No wounded, no shelling, nothing. No sign that the war even existed apart from the sickly green fatigues. It was a Saturday, sometime in 1953, and most of the camp's inhabitants were mildewing around, committing acts of lunacy on each other. For example, a Captain BJ Hunnicut had just finished running Charles Emerson Winchester the Third's underwear up the camp flagpole. Yes, all was normal.

But little did these people know, fifteen miles to the east of them, was another unit. A unit under heavy shelling. The 5025th. Bombs were quickly destroying the camp, leaving half of a tent strewn across the compound. The staff of the unit were huddled together – a hundred people tightly squeezed like oranges into a small mess tent. Prayer was common here, as well as the five stages of grief. It's funny, how these stages are there for the grieving of loved one's lives, and here, these people were bargaining for their own lives. War seemed to do that; twist around the meant-to be into an impossible web of pain, lies and intolerable sickness.

A bomb exploded outside the mess tent, sending a shrill little whine to the souls of the prey, as if to roar; 'you're no match for me, I'll get you eventually.' Everyone thought this was the moment they would die. Some thought of family. Others, just a blank abyss. But Captain Elizabeth Houlihan was considering the military tactics of such shelling. _Surely, the army wouldn't be so dumb as to let us die. They must be using nugatory tactics right now._ She had grown up an army brat with her two sisters, one a major, the other a first lieutenant in the states. Lucky bitch, she was, not to be assigned Korea. So she was not afraid of a little shelling. Well, deep down she was terrified. But she was a Houlihan – a family name notorious for courage and military strategies. Seven generations of Houlihan had been army brats, strong and leaders. Elizabeth would be no exception.

Elizabeth was thinking about how to go about getting supplies from post-op. She had seen the wounded; they needed a bucket load of penicillin, bandages and such materials in there. And she knew she would be the one to get them. She had to be strong, for the rest of the unit who couldn't. With that, she stormed over to Major Michael Robertson, the camp Commanding Officer.

'Sir, request permission to get supplies from post-op'. She stood strong; giving what she knew was intimidating glare.

But her CO was not about to let her go out and get herself killed, he knew he couldn't risk it. But he also knew Elizabeth Houlihan. And he knew she would just go anyway, for the good of the unit. _Humph! Those Houlihan's, always doing the stupid thing! _So he gave her his approval, and the strong captain traipsed into the compound, hiding between trash cans and dodging the shells. Well, not all of them.

As she was stood behind post-op, right near the door, a bomb dropped, exploding at her feet. She was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! And I do realize her name is meant to be Margaret….but the damn spell check said I was wrong! Anyway, it's all rectified now. Here's chapter two. Oh, and to clear up any confusion, this is set in season 11.**

**Oh, and I still own nobody.**

_**Chapter Two – Truths**_

The MASH 4077th was bathed in a stream of light the next morning. Birds were chirping, music was playing, and the staff were finally relieved of their boredom with the arrival of wounded late the night before.

They knew it was horrible to feel relieved at the sight of wounded, and this guilt further emphasized the longing they felt for home.

The wounded seemed to keep coming, like a river of blood and pain, nothing could stop it. The staff were just trying to keep their patients together; letting themselves become fragmented by torment. Well, most of them anyway.

Major Margaret Houlihan was counting gauze and penicillin packages. They had heard another unit was short on supplies as their route had been bombed, so the 4077th had volunteered to fly supplies over. It was routine, this counting. _One, two, three, four_…..nothing could go wrong in this sequence, it was immaculate and immune.

And then just like that, the first shell of the day exploded. The staff knew to expect this; they had heard news that six or seven units had already bugged out. They were just hoping they would not have to.

Hawkeye sighed as he ripped off his gloves, and looked around the room. He knew how much Margaret hated shelling, or loud noises of any kind. He spotted her frozen to the floor, a methodical rhythm between her hands and the penicillin, a slightly worn but determined look on her face. Had he not known her as well as he did, he would have assumed she was fine, but he knew. The look on her face, to him, gave away the fact that she was terrified, and carrying out the rhythmic counting just to keep herself rooted to the floor.

He walked over to her, asking her to assist him with the next patient. But they were in luck as Klinger informed them that there were no more patients to be seen, but that he needed to talk to Hawkeye.

Hawkeye followed Klinger outside, a tired, worn and slightly worried scowl on his face.

"Klinger, what's the matter?" Hawkeye tried to muster a joke to relieve some of the thick tension, but he was too tired to even muster a punch line.

Klinger stuttered, a frightened, worried and silently foreboding look on his face.

"Well sir, we just got some bad news. It seems that a unit nearby is also being shelled, but they can't bug out – all the surrounding roads are blocked. They are trapped. Anyway, they just called with some bad ah, concerning Major Houlihan's sister, sir."

Hawkeye was silent a minute, dreading the next words to come out of his friend's mouth. But this was Margaret's sister, and he had to know.

"What happened, Klinger? What happened to Margaret's sister?"

Klinger shook for a moment, enticing the courage to let Hawkeye know of the tragic happening.

"Well, Hawkeye, it seems that as the unit was under such heavy shelling, the unit were together in the mess tent. But they needed supplies; the wounded needed them. So Captain Houlihan volunteered to get some….and, well sir…she was in the supply room when a shell hit it. She's, uh, dead, Hawkeye"

Hawkeye stared for a moment, trying to muster the feelings to be angry. But all he could do was stare. It was as if he was standing at the edge of a dark lake peering through, trying to find a way past it to get to the other side. But there was no way; he was trapped, staring into the bleak pond. He was tired of all of it; the war, death and pain. He just wanted to get to the other side.

"Damnit!" Hawkeye finally felt something, something bigger than anger. He was not merely angry now, he was livid. He had seen death before; he looked it in the face of every wounded soldier. But he was going to have to tell a good friend, someone he cares about, that someone she loves is gone.

Damnit.

Margaret tore off her gloves as she finished the methodical counting. She was more than tired, she was practically sleepwalking. All she wanted to do on this beautiful morning was sleep, and forget the faces of all the wounded. But she knew that would never happen; their faces had engraved themselves in her memory.

She walked slowly back to her tent, shrugging her standard army jacket off as she walked. She chuckled; she had thought it was still nighttime and would need it.

As she walked through the compound, her mind was on autodrive. She couldn't get out of her head Hawkeye's face as he watched her earlier. As the first and last shell of the day exploded, she had noticed him look to her. She found it surprising, but sweet that he had remembered her hatred of loud noises. She remembered his lean form as he slowly walked over to her, asking her to assist him. She had known he was doing it to help her, comfort her fear. And then Klinger had interrupted. _Huh, I wonder what that was about_, she thought.

As she walked through the door to her tent, she was greeted to a surprise. There was Hawkeye Pierce, sitting on her bed with his back against the side of the tent. She frowned as she looked at his face; it was a mixture of tiredness, anger and foreboding. But he was also asleep. So moving quietly and trying not to stare at his pale features, Margaret moved his legs onto the bed, took of his boots, any lay down next to him, falling into a fitful sleep, unaware of the tragic news she would receive the next morning.


	3. Chapter 3 Denial

**Thanks for all the reviews and alerts. Well, I am sick at the moment and off school so will probably update every few hours! Anyway, here's the next chapter.**

**To make it so that the story is not all dread and hurting, I tried to put a little humor in this. I think Hawkeye uses humor to get through things, so it seemed appropriate.**

_**Chapter Three – Denial**_

Hawkeye sighed and snuggled closer to the warm body next to him. He slowly opened his eyes, forgetting where he was until he smelled the strawberry shampoo. He looked down to see a mass of blonde hair hiding a pale face.

Hawkeye suddenly remembered what news he had heard the night before. He looked down to the woman before him, moving the hair away from her face. She mumbled something incomprehensible and tried to get back to sleep.

But Hawkeye knew she had to know, so he whispered in her ear:

"Come on, Margaret, wake up." But his reasoning was met with a small growl and a little snore. He chuckled slightly; even in her sleep she was as stubborn as a mule.

"Margaret……." He said a little louder in a sing-song voice. He didn't know why he wasn't shaking with dread instead of trying to be funny, but reasoned that humor was the way he dealt with things.

At this, she stirred slightly, but still refused to wake up. Hawkeye had had enough of this, so came out with something he knew would make her crazy.

"Major…..the nurses are out of uniform again!" He managed to somehow muster, knowing that the nurses were her source of pride. He was right. With that, she was awake, staring at him with an intimidating glare.

"What the hell did you do that for? You could've just tried to wake me up nicely!" She was trying to be mad, like Major Hotlips would be, but just couldn't muster the energy. Like it or not, she had changed. Well, the fact that she hadn't kicked Hawkeye where it hurt yet told her that.

He just smiled slightly, wincing as she removed herself from his embrace and stood up, to get ready. Hawkeye winced slightly at the loss of warmth, and started to worry again. He decided he had put off the deed for long enough.

He stood, leaning against her, embracing her shoulders with a feeling of complete and utter helplessness. Whatever he said would not be enough; she would hurt, hurt a hell of a lot and there was nothing he could do about it. If a patient's body hurts, he can cure it. But there's nothing for this kind of hurt, it's just pain.

"Margaret, sit down. There's, uh, there's something I need to tell you." He only faltered once, his voice betraying that something bad was about to be revealed.

He led her to the cot, grabbing a chair and sitting down opposite her. He touchingly grabbed her hands in his, drawing small circles in what he hoped was a comforting move.

"Margaret, something bad happened." His face was long and tired; it was only then that she noticed how old he looked. Not his age of thirty – one, but someone much older.

She was dazed in worry and bereavement, wondering what had happened.

He moved slightly toward her, looking directly into her eyes, and finally mustered the courage to tell her.

"We got a call yesterday. From the 5035th. You know they were under pretty heavy shelling, right?"

She nodded, her face never faltering in an almost cold fixation on his.

"Well, what I need to tell you is that…well, they needed supplies, and…..Margaret, your sister was in the supply tent, and shells….do you know what I'm trying to say?"

She looked at him with a tired, shocked, and slightly broken face, before looking down to her boots. When she looked up again, he was shocked. Her face was cold, with no open space on it. He couldn't read her expression. She gave him one last glance before striding over to the door, and throwing it open and shut with a loud bang. She strode out into the compound, through the grasses to an open plane near a lake, where she finally fell to her knees, staring into the lake.

She could almost see her sister's reflection. It was strange, all her life people had told Margaret that to lose someone was to lose a piece of your heart…it breaks with tremendous pain. But she didn't feel anything out of the ordinary. It was if the information hadn't yet sunk in; she felt slightly dazed, but that was it.

In the distance, she could hear choppers, and with that, the Major leapt to her feet, determined to work herself to the bone.

Hawkeye sighed after she left the tent. He wanted to follow her, to comfort her, but knew she needed to be alone. After his mother died, everyone tried to crowd around him, trying to help him, offering grievances and such. But he felt suffocated, and eventually ran away. He wouldn't let that happen to her.

But he knew that Colonel Potter had to know. Hawkeye figured it was not his place to tell him, but Margaret was nowhere to be seen and her behavior might become erratic, Hawkeye reasoned, gliding out of the tent and across the compound.

Klinger met him at the door to Colonel Potter's office.

"Hawkeye! How'd she, uh, take it?" Despite everything, Klinger was worried. Sure, for the first year Margaret had practically scared him to death, but she had changed…become more open. He remembered her last birthday, when she wouldn't let anyone know. Klinger had felt bad for her, and eventually realized it was because he actually cared for the nurse.

Hawkeye looked him in the eye and shrugged, eyes lighting up with anger.

"How the hell was she supposed to take it? Her sister is gone!" His face became animalistic for a second, until he realized that all of post op had probably heard his little tirade.

"I'm sorry, Klinger, it just makes me mad, to think that this bastard war takes away so many loved ones." He stood back a little, ignoring Klinger's hurt, but worried look.

"Is Potter in?" He asked quieter.

Klinger nodded, and Hawkeye moved forward to be met with the face of Sherman Potter.

"Hawkeye? What in the hell is going on here?" The colonel was worried. He had heard Hawkeye's outburst and wondered what it was about.

Hawkeye moved into the office, motioning for Potter to close the door. When he did and had sat down, Hawkeye started slowly.

"We got a phone call yesterday from the 5025th. They were under heavy shelling, and Margaret's sister was killed."

The colonel was silent for a moment. He wondered how Margaret was, and then a sudden anger came over him. He was angry for every loved one who had to suffer, and now his prodigal daughter would have to suffer.

He quietly, and with some foreboding, asked; "How did she take it?"

Hawkeye shook his head slightly, informing the colonel of the earlier happenings.

The wounded interrupted them, signaling that another meatball surgery was about to occur.

Hawkeye shuddered.

"Here we go again" He muttered.


	4. Chapter 4 Anger

**There is a mistake in the previous chapter – I accidentally said 5035****th**** instead of 5025****th****. Never mind. I just wanted to get this one out.**

_**Chapter Four – Anger**_

Margaret stormed back across the compound, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded. She was confused. Her sister and her had never been best friends, but they were still family. So why did Margaret feel so angry? She seemed to blame everyone for what happened.

She barged into pre – op, donning the white scrubs. Just when she moved over to the sink to wash her hands, she heard something which made her cringe.

"Oh, man! Houlihan's in a foul mood. Now we'll never get out of here!" One of the nurses was talking animatedly, fixating the head nurse with a glare of steel.

Margaret shuddered for a second, and then decided that these women had no right to be mad at her. She whipped round, hair twirling, eyes meeting the face of the guilty nurse in a heated anger.

"What the HELL gives you the right to say something like that?" She was giving the nurses a stare which would make the strongest General crumple at her feet.

The nurses sputtered, surprised at the major. They had always complained. What was so different now? Why was she acting like they murdered someone?

Luckily for them, Hawkeye burst through the doors, quickly taking Margaret to the side, holding her trembling form in his arms. He gave the nurses a mean look and waved them away. As they began to disappear, Margaret let a tear slip.

She had always been the strongest, the one to be strong and let others fall apart. She couldn't cry on anyone's shoulder; that would be showing weakness, that she couldn't control her emotions.

Margaret thought she had changed. But as she pushed Hawkeye out of the way and strode confidently into OR, she realized she hadn't changed as much as she thought.

Hawkeye just sighed. He had to find a way to get through to her, let her know she didn't need to be strong, she could confide in him. She had before, so he could make her again. He knew he was doing this for selfish reasons. She needed someone to confide in, anyone. Not him. But he felt close to her, and wanted to be close to her when she needed someone. Why he felt like this, he didn't know.

Colonel Potter frowned as he saw Margaret enter the OR. He should've known she wouldn't back down from doing her job. But he knew she was too emotional to be in here, even if she didn't show it.

He sighed. The patients' safety had to come first. With that thought, he whispered to Hawkeye, who was entering the OR.

"Hawkeye, what the hell is she doing in here?"

Hawkeye cringed. "Well, it seems as though Major Hotlips Houlihan takes over in painful situations. She doesn't seem to acknowledge she's in any pain. She just seems angry." He lowered his voice as he joined to assist the colonel, not wanting the situation to be unleashed and become common knowledge.

Colonel Potter looked down, into the bleeding heart of his patient. Then he looked up at Hawkeye, whispering his permission for Hawkeye to use any measure – even force, if necessary, to get their friend out of the operating room, and somewhere where she could vent.

Hawkeye knew he had to be quiet. He walked over to where Margaret was assisting BJ, resisting BJ's inquisitive glance. He leaned close to Margaret, whispering in her ear.

"Margaret, you need to get out of here." He knew to expect resistance.

"I will do no such thing, _Captain"._ There it was. Proof that she was both angry and in pain. She called him Captain, something she hadn't called him in years. He had been Hawkeye.

But he never faltered, grabbing her hands, and giving BJ a look that said '_I'll tell later',_ pulled her out of the room, slightly surprised when she didn't resist much. But then he gathered that she must be exhausted.

"So, Margaret, I'm guessing your not speaking to me now?" He wasn't that surprised that he was the one her anger was directed to. He had been the one to tell her the news. It had to mean something.

He looked to her for some sign of emotion as she shrugged off her scrubs wordlessly, and he began to worry. Lines ran across his forehead as he sighed, opening the door for her to walk through.

Once they were in the open compound, she turned to look at him, seemingly ravishing the sight of him. She knew he wanted to comfort her, but was unsure of his intentions. He had bedded every nurse in the camp hadn't he? How was she supposed to know that he wasn't trying to do the same to her?

_But_, she reasoned with herself, he has been a good friend as of late. _I think that we grew closer, in that time at the cave_. She remembered how they had comforted each other when they were terrified – her of the shells, him of the closed-in space. They had needed each other.

Margaret decided that she could trust him, and allowed him to follow her inside as they reached her tent. But she couldn't muster the energy to talk. Margaret didn't know why she couldn't talk. It was as if talking was a sign that all this was actually real. She was living in a dream world at the moment, and talking, hearing her own voice, would assure her of the pain and torment of the real world.

So she silently went and sat on her seemingly steel cot, watching as Hawkeye seemed unsure. Worry lines still plagued his forehead, but he seemed glad for the moment that she wasn't shouting profanities around the camp.

He was unsure of what to do, but knew she needed someone. But he realized that the someone was obviously not him as she lay back on the cot, and in small mutters, uttered; "I want to be alone."

He accepted, not knowing what else he could do for her, and left the tent without another word.


	5. Chapter 5 Bargaining

_**Wow, thanks for all the reviews! Especially Hawk-Hotlips, celticmaggie4077 andMiss-Margaret-4077!**_

_**Just as a warning, this story will get sadder before it gets lighter. **_

_**And sorry it took so long, but I had a little blockage….**_

* * *

_**Chapter Five – Bargaining**_

The funeral came three days later. Margaret couldn't go. It was in the US, on the base where her father was currently based. She had requested leave, but was denied. The war intervened.

She hadn't spoken for three days; it was as if by talking, she was acknowledging the truth, what had happened. She just wanted to escape. So she wouldn't talk; she just went through everything with a bare disposition. It was bad, Hawkeye knew then.

A week soon passed without a word from the nurse. It was unbearable in the OR. She had usually been berating mistakes, being quick and efficient. Now she just stood there silently, doing her job to the smallest extent she could.

The others would try to get her to speak, especially Hawkeye, who was more often than not the doctor she was assisting. He would joke about, asking where her sense of humor had gone. He didn't see it as insensitive as others did. He needed to rustle her feathers enough to get her back.

But nothing worked. It was the Thursday of that week when he finally patched a call through to Dr. Sidney Freedman. He arrived the next day.

Sidney jumped over the side of the jeep, a silent foreboding in his mind. He knew of the circumstances, and was mildly, but not extremely, surprised. On the one hand, he knew the major, how stubborn she was, and knew that she kept herself strong through the war. Refusing to feel strong emotion. On this side, it seemed fitting that such a trauma brought out hidden feelings and provoked such a strong response. On the other hand, he did know she must be fighting the emotion; she always did. She is an interesting psychological study, he admitted to himself.

He slowly walked over to the swamp, gripping his small suitcase in his right hand. He braced himself, and then knocked at the door.

Hawkeye looked up from his magazine to see Sidney standing at the door. He was surprised the psychiatrist had made it in so early.

He placed his magazine on the small, worn table and stood to meet the Captain.

"Sidney! God I'm glad you're here. I was really running out of ideas." He was clearly glad the other was there, a large smile gracing his features. Though, Sidney noticed, the smile never reached his eyes. It was clear the circumstances had also affected the chief surgeon to a larger extent than expected.

He gestured to a seat, inviting Sidney to stay a while. Sidney sighed, took a seat, and prepared himself for what he was about to witness. It almost scared him, that someone as strong as the major could break so entirely. She never mentioned her family; many didn't even know she had a sister. The relationship must have been tired, he reasoned.

Finally, he posed the question on his mind.

"How is she? What actually happened, Hawkeye?"

Hawkeye looked to make sure they would not be interrupted. One he was sure, he started.

"I've never seen her like this Sidney. I thought I'd seen her down, when she and Donald divorced and such, but that was nothing like this. I've tried, but I can't seem to reach her. It hurts not to be able to reach her."

At the last statement, Sidney realized what was affecting the captain.

"You were there for her in her divorce. She turned to you?" He couldn't say he wasn't surprised. He never assumed she would turn to Hawkeye; he seemed to far from her. They were barely friends the last time he had visited.

Hawkeye nodded, smiling slightly, and then continued.

"She did. I was surprised that she turned to me, her arch nemesis! But one night, being in the O-Club, I got tired. I came back early to find her asleep in my cot. I figured she must have gotten tired of being alone. And it's not like she could turn to the nurses; her relationship with them is a bit too professional. So I was there for her."

Sidney thought at the tone of voice Hawkeye used. It was emotional, low, and almost pleasant. He was surprised again; it seemed that Hawkeye felt more for the nurse than he had initially thought.

He was unsure as to how to approach the situation. If Hawkeye really did have feelings for her, then he was about to get into a deep emotional mess. The next few months would be hard for her, as well as him if he stuck by her. Sidney was unsure as to whether he could support a buffering relationship between the two. On the other hand, it did seem as if he really loved her. He knew it would be futile to intervene with someone in love.

He remembered she hadn't been talking.

"She talked yet?"

Hawkeye responded in a solemn tone.

"Not a word. It's funny, even though every other word out of her mouth was usually berating me, I really miss her voice." Hawkeye smiled slightly after this, and Sidney noticed that this time the smile actually reached his eyes. He smiled back, then stood and asked where his patient was, for he would go and try to talk to her.

Hawkeye replied that she was in her tent, and prepared to follow the psychiatrist. Sidney noticed this and stopped him at the door, inquiring that it was probably best he talked to her himself first.

He could see Hawkeye was increasingly worried about her, so Sidney placed a comforting hand on his arm, stating that he would be careful and not push her. Hawkeye relaxed at this, and pushed open the door for Sidney to leave.

Sidney looked back, seeing Hawkeye still standing at the door watching him, and could see an unbearable message in his eyes.

_Get her back, please._

He tipped his head to the surgeon, continuing his walk. He paused outside her tent door, gathering his thoughts. He knocked quietly, and then entered the room.

It was dark. She had pulled the cherry-red curtains so that they were as closed as possible. She sat on the bed, unmoving, staring at him with red eyes. But he could tell she had not cried. She probably hadn't allowed herself to.

He paused, looking into her eyes for a moment, searching for any notice of him. Her pupils flickered, telling him she knew he was there. He took the hard, wooden chair and set it facing her, sitting down with a solemn expression.

"So, how are you Margaret?" He paused, waiting for a response. None came. He was shocked, and though he tried not to, he knew it showed on his face. She was no longer the strong army major who kicked around men and loved to be fierce. She seemed like a broken wind-up toy, stuck on a stammer.

He spoke again, softer this time.

"How are you doing?"

He sighed when she stood methodically, and wistfully strode out of the tent, leaving a stunned psychiatrist behind. He sat there for a moment, considering what had just happened, when he noticed a picture on the bed. He suspected it was a picture of the sister, and picked it up carefully. But he was surprised. It was not a picture of her sister. It was a picture of herself and Hawkeye.

The picture was taken at some sort of a party. She had a beaded necklace of flowers around her neck, contrasting against the green fatigues. She looked happy, was what stuck him most. The smile on her face was the biggest he had seen. Certainly from her, anyway. Hawkeye was standing behind her, one arm casually leaning down to meet her uplifted hand. He was wearing that hideous blue Hawaiian shirt, and smiling a massive, tooth-dazzling grin, looking down at his comrade. They didn't know the camera was even there. Sidney sighed, realizing that the tear-stained picture was crumpled, obviously kept with her at all times. A single spot of blood was at the corner, straining against the white border to the picture. What struck him most about the picture was the soggy edges and faintly darker patch where a tear had dropped. If he didn't know any better, Sidney would think she had feelings for him too.

_Well I'll be. Those two, the arch nemesis, have feelings for each other._

He sighed as the thought came upon him that if she really did have feelings for him too; he was probably the only one who could help her.

With that last thought, Sidney determinedly left the tent, heading back to the swamp. He tried not to grimace at the hopeful look on Hawkeye's face.

BJ, who was there by now, stood, smiling, and shook hands with Sidney.

"Hey, good to see you. Did you have any luck with our favorite head nurse?" Sidney this time grimaced visually, turning to Hawkeye and asking to speak with him alone.

Hawkeye and Sidney left the tent, walking slowly through the compound.

"She was still mute as a button, wasn't she?" Hawkeye asked, afraid.

Sidney merely nodded, beginning his story.

"Hawkeye, there is good news and bad news. Good is that she seems to be accepting the tragedy, which knowing her, is something she wouldn't usually do. Bad, she only gave one sign she even knew I was there. She is gone Hawkeye, and I think you are the one to bring her back."

At this point, they had stopped in the middle of the compound, facing each other as they talked.

Hawkeye resisted the urge to ask why, figuring it was because he was the one to tell her, and nodded, asking what he would have to do.


End file.
